The Boy and the Girl
by Me Llamo Berry
Summary: A boy watches a girl, silently. She is unaware at his attentions as she prepares to do something that would probably be her worst mistake.


**A/N Hey. So, I got the itch to write something while I'm on right now, so I will, but I don't even know what category it will fall under yet! I guess we'll see where my thoughts take me! XD**

A girl bent over a book, reading silently. Suddenly, she gave up, and threw it at the nearest tree. "Not even Lord of the Rings is helping!" she cried to herself.

"Why me?" she yelled to the sky, "Why did my friends desert me?"

The girl started running through the forest, trying to forget everything, trying to get away. Finally, she collapsed near the river. She looked down into it, and contemplated for a moment.

After a few moment's deliberation, she pulled out a stack of paper and a pencil from her secret hiding place. She stared at the blank paper in front of her before scribbling furiously, as if to destroy its whiteness.

After about an hour of frantically writing, editing, rewriting, and talking to herself, she gazed at the paper in satisfaction. She tucked the paper into her robes and decided to do one, last crazy thing.

She thought about it for several minutes before she came to a decision. She stood up and headed to the carnival

Confidently, she walked to the carnival where she had been ridiculed by those she had once called friends only a few hours ago. She looked around at all the wizarding folk that were there, enjoying themselves. There were families, friends, and couples. Everyone there was happy. Except her.

Ignoring the jeering of her ex-friends, she continued walking through the crowd, letting the words circulate through her head.

"Freak!" they called her.

"It's no wonder you have no friends," they informed her.

"You would be more likable if you weren't so pushy," they jeered.

"Why would anyone like you?" they asked.

"What kind of person sits inside and reads all day?" They shook their heads.

"How can a teenager know so much?" they queried of each other.

"Go away, we'll all be better off with you dead," someone shouted.

But even with that, she continued on, head held high to her destination. She didn't show how much each comment wounded her heart, and she fought back tears she refused to shed as she made her way through the crowd.

She didn't notice the figure watching her from the shadows, impressed by how she completely ignored them. He had watched the earlier scene and had since taken time to do his research on her.

He shook his head. He couldn't understand why she was so hated. She was beautiful, intelligent, and she posessed a strength of character hardly anybody else carried.

He stepped out from the shadows, with a cloak on and a hood over his head. "How can you ridicule her?" he asked after she had disappeared. He blinked, surprised that his accent had disappeared so soon.

The group stared at him. "She deserves it," one of the boys growled.

"Yeah, she thinks she's better than us," another added.

"Besides, it's not like she matters at all," a girl inserted.

The newcomer gaped at them. "She doesn't matter? One life doesn't matter? I hope your parents are ashamed at the kids they raised."

They snorted in unison. Someone commented, "Well, she's so selfish, and her life DOESN'T matter. All she cares about is herself!"

The rest of the group added their approval.

The boy stared at them for several minutes, surprised at their callousness. He turned and headed after the girl, hoping to talk to her.

She was standing in one of the contest areas. They were putting together a quidditch match with volunteers, and she was one of the beaters. Noticing that her team needed one more player, he quickly joined them.

He agreed to play beater, even though he didn't know how to play that position, being more accustomed to playing seeker. He shrugged. It was a game, just for fun, so it wouldn't matter if he made a fool of himself, as long as he got a chance to talk to her.

They were off...

She to one side and he to the other. They worked surprisingly well together, seeming to sense the other's ideas before they could be voiced. They sent bludgers after each of the chasers and succeeded in help their team score many times while the other scored only once.

They volleyed the bludgers back and forth, and he found himself enjoying the match while the girl laughed with exhilaration.

Suddenly, the seekers on either team dove for the snitch. They were neck and neck.

He focused on hitting a bludger to distract the other team's seeker and missed the one coming up behind him. The girl, however, noticed. She flew behind him, and didn't have time to hit the bludger. It smacked her with a sickly thud.

He turned around and stared as she lost her grip on the broomstick. Snapping himself out of it, he swooped down and caught her.

The boy cradled the girl to his chest as he touched down.

The whistle sounded. Their team had won. They gathered for their rewards of medals and money. They posed for pictures, and he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

She smiled, the first smile he had seen. He liked how it brightened her face. He walked over to talk to her, but she spoke first.

His smile faded as she commented, "I always wanted to play beater before I died."

And before he could say anything, she was gone. He gaped and then gained his senses.

He followed her as she ran through the forest and climbed the tallest tree.

She climbed it nimbly, ignoring the pain from the bludger.

He stared up after her as the paper secured in her robes came loose and drifted down.

After checking to see that she wasn't doing anything stupid yet, he read it.

_To whom it may concern:_

_I don't expect this to concern anybody. Who cares about poor, little me, the freak? I had friends once. But it turns out, they were just setting me up so that they could tear me down. Why is everybody so cruel? Why doesn't anybody like me? I love to read, and sure, I'm smart, but I don't mean to brag... It's just so hard when people are stupid. Am I beautiful? I wouldn't know. I don't think I am, and the only ones who talk about how I look call me ugly, but I don't know what to think, as they are the ones who hate me. Why do I have this bad luck? Nothing ever goes right. I can get good grades, but that is it. That's not luck at all. That's just hard work. But my friends hate me. Everybody does, and, I keep wondering, what is my purpose here? I don't make a difference, and it's unlikely I ever will. I think... I think that maybe they are right. I should die. And I will. There will be nobody to see my fall from the tallest tree in this forest, and I doubt anyone will find my body for months, and no one will ever care about what I wrote here. I have one final thing to do. I have always wanted to do something crazy, like play beater. I think I will go do just that, and then, it will be time for me to commit suicide._

There was no name. He didn't know her name, but he felt... something... towards her. It wasn't pity. It was a feeling that he had to protect her and make her happy in whatever way possible. He glanced up and saw her enjoying the breeze.

His breath hitched at the thought of such a wonderful girl... dying, fading out of the world forever.

He climbed up the tree slowly, not making a sound. He didn't want to startle her into jumping early.

She breathed in the air, saying her good-byes with closed eyes. She reached into her robes and drew out her wand. She stared at it for a few moments, wondering what to do. The girl shrugged and returned it to her robes as she ascended to the uppermost branches, unaware of her follower.

She prepared to jump when she reached the end of the sturdy branches, but just as she tensed, he shouted, "NO!" and pulled her back.

She tumbled onto him, and her weight unbalanced him. She grasped a branch, but he wasn't so lucky. He tumbled out of the tree, his hood still obscuring his face.

The girl climbed down the tree quickly, wincing when she heard a thud. Her feet touched the ground after what seemed like years. Cautiously, she walked over to him.

His body lay at an awkward angle, but he was still breathing.

Her breath caught at the thought that maybe he would survive. She kneeled down at his side, and found the tears she had worked so hard to keep fall onto him.

She couldn't think of anything to say, except... "Why?" she asked abruptly.

His breathing was shallow, but he answered anyway. "Because someone as beautiful and smart as you deserves to live."

Her hand covered her mouth in shock. "But..."

He groaned slightly at some pain, but he continued on. "You have made a difference in my life. I played beater for the first time today, and I liked it, when I never thought I would. You don't deserve to die today or any other day." He attempted to move, but the pain was to much. He gasped for a moment. "Can I know your name?" he begged.

Not knowing what else to say, she answered, "My name is... Isabel." He grunted in satisfaction and went limp.

Isabel checked his pulse and sighed in relief when she realized that he was still alive. She levitated her savior. Swallowing, she headed back to the carnival, the nearest place with a portkey to St. Mungo's.

No one dared approach her. She had a look of fire as she found the portkey she needed.

Hours later, she paced anxiously until a Healer came out.

He took her aside and informed her of her savior's condition. "He was pretty bad off. The impact shattered his spine, and caused severe internal bleeding. He's lucky to live. We've given him Skele-gro, and some other potions, and he should be recovered by tomorrow." The Healer didn't mention the mystery boy's identity.

Isabel nodded hopefully. "Is he awake?" she asked, when normally she wouldn't have dared.

The Healer nodded. "Yes, and he's asking for you."

Isabel squeaked in surprise as she followed the Healer to his room.

The Healer turned to her. "It looks worse than it is."

Isabel nodded slowly and opened the door. She stepped in, closed the door behind her, and took a deep breath. She raised her eyes slowly to the figure on the bed, and her gaze lingered on his injuries as she moved forward, as if in a dream.

She sat in a chair right next to the bed, and for the first time, looked at her saviour. She gasped when her eyes met small, dark ones.

"You alright?" he asked worriedly.

She could only nod. Shock caught up with her finally, and it wasn't long before she was asleep.

The Healers and her saviour let her. The latter knew that she needed it. He was up, and getting dressed when she woke up.

Isabel took in her surroundings. "I thought I was dreaming..." she murmured to herself.

Her saviour came up and hugged her before, somewhat cautiously, planting a short and sweet kiss on her lips.

Dazed, she gazed up into the eyes of her saviour, one Viktor Krum.


End file.
